


Visions of Unity

by IlanaNight



Series: Visions [2]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Pining, Prophetic Dreams, Prophetic Visions, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 09:58:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17506451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IlanaNight/pseuds/IlanaNight
Summary: Fate has drawn Indrid Cold to Kepler for the first time in almost fifty years, and the visions of Duck have only gotten clearer.





	Visions of Unity

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of Visions of Reality, but could be read standalone!

Indrid had gotten used to Duck appearing in his late-night heated visions, had come to rather look forward to them, actually. The images were clearer each time they appeared to him, and really, the man was quite handsome. And _so_ attentive- Indrid couldn’t remember the last time any partner had taken care of him as well as the man in his dreams.

 

No, not dreams. Visions. They were distinctly futures- even if they were unlikely ones.

 

Unlikely but _oh-so-desirable._ Nothing tempted him more than the futures were Duck loomed over him, always with a smile, always with eyes near-black with lust. Always looking at him as if he was the most beautiful person in the world.

 

More often than not Indrid found himself yearning in a way that he hadn’t in decades, slipping fingers into his mouth when he wasn’t paying attention or biting down on his lips- more than once hard enough to bruise, imagining it was someone else’s teeth sinking into the flesh. And any spare moment was spent ruminating on the words that always slipped from Duck’s lips like honey-sweet prayer.

 

* * *

  


“ _You’re gorgeous, Indrid.”_

_Hot lips pressed against the skin of his chest, Duck kissing up his ribcage one by one and coming to rest in the crook of his neck. Indrid felt more than saw him smiling against his skin, pressing another kiss to the fresh bruise forming there and drawing a gasp from his lips._

 

 _“And I_ **_love_ ** _that, sweet pea. Love how sensitive you always are.”_

 

_Duck laughed softly, teasing, and Indrid found himself joining in, hand slipping into Duck’s hair to pull him up for a proper, slow kiss. A tongue slipped its way past his lips, tracing along the inside of his teeth and pulling a whine up from his chest, heat flashing down to his stomach again._

 

 _Against his will, but with the support of his greater judgement, Indrid pulled away from the kiss, pouting and lying back on the bed with a sigh, “Mmm… Duck. In approximately seventeen minutes, Juno Divine will call and ask you to come in and cover a shift as soon as possible, because Ryan called out sick. And I_ **_don’t_ ** _want to be left hanging while you do that.”_

 

_Another deep laugh rumbled up from Duck’s chest as he sat up on his elbows, hovering over Indrid so he could look down at him. He leant in, pressing another deep kiss to Indrid’s lips before kissing his way down, across Indrid’s jaw and neck, down to the bitten and bruised expanse of his chest, a grin on his lips._

 

_“Seventeen minutes, huh? I can do somethin’ with that, I think.”_

 

* * *

  


Sighing with his head in the palm of his hand, Indrid looked down at the little sketch he was drawing. Most of the drawings in this book were decidedly not for young eyes- Duck was a _marvelous_ subject to study when he was between Indrid’s knees in his mind’s eye- but this one wasn’t quite so scandalous.

 

The man’s head was bowed, a hat held to his chest- a pose that was distinctly old-fashioned for this time period, if Indrid was up-to-date with the modern sensibilities. It looked almost like an old portrait, one of those 19th century gentleman callers, come to whisk him away- with his father’s permission, of course.

 

A chuckle slipped past his lips- rose colored glasses indeed, he was romanticizing this man beyond comprehension. It would surely be disappointing when their paths finally crossed- or when a future shifted, eliminating all possibility of them meeting. That’s how it always was, and that’s how it always would be.

 

Closing the leather notebook, he shoved it back into the bookcase, away from any potential prying eyes, and out of his reach. It was too much of a temptation to have that book within reach when he had other visions and futures to attend to.

 

Sitting down on the floor with a fresh pad of paper, a gallon of eggnog, and a box of charcoal sticks, Indrid sat and let the futures wash over him, sinking into them and following each pathway to its plausible ends.

 

* * *

  


Returning to the gates wasn’t something Indrid _needed_ to do, per se- the crystal he wore around his neck kept him connected enough to Sylvain to not need the energy that rolled off them- but sometimes it served his purposes to set up shop nearby. So many more interesting futures crossed paths by the gates, after all.

 

He’d avoided the Kepler gate since the 60s- that whole Silver Bridge incident really soured his attitude towards the area, and he wasn’t interested in having such a close eye on him. The United States government wasn’t nearly as charming as the people that lived there. Or well, the people he bothered interacting with and helping, anyway.

 

But time, fate, and the promise of a readily available campground had brought him back to Kepler- long enough after the incident that he was more a legend than a commodity. He really did want to look into that statue though- he’d heard wonderful things about some of it’s more _intimate_ features.

 

Truly, he hoped it had done him some sort of justice.

 

Jotting down a note to fly out to Point Pleasant sometime soon, Indrid set about making himself at home at the East Woods RV Park. He’d picked the most out-of-the-way lot for a reason, but even so, he liked to make his humble abode look as uninviting as possible. He knew these border-Southerners and their penchant for bringing plates of cookies- and expecting the plate returned with cookies in good time- and he didn’t want the added stress.

 

Some ill-fitting curtains over the windows, a little more dust and rust and paint chipping than maybe was standard, even for a Winnebago as old as his, and a trusty No Solicitors sign next to the door and his home was much more suited to the area- and much more suited to being left alone, which was exactly what he needed.

 

Moving to a new area meant fielding a whole new slurry of futures, after all, and he could already feel the headache coming on. He needed a mug of hot nog, a fresh sketchbook, and every space heater he could turn on without blowing a fuse.

 

It would take him hours to start sifting through the mess for the important futures.

 

* * *

  


Eyes wide, Indrid came to in a cold sweat. Pieces of paper lie scattered around him, some crumpled, some just tossed aside in a fervor from his erratic drawing. The visions had been coming faster and harder recently- even when he wasn’t around people, hardly a day went by without them.

 

Something was happening.

 

Looking down at the freshest sketch in his lap, Indrid picked up his notebook and ran out the door of his Winnebago, sprinting to the payphone. Punching in a number he only knew from his visions, he waited once, twice, three rings until the phone picked up.

 

“In three minutes your friend, Leo Tarkesian, and the two customers in his shop are going to die. You might want to do something about that.”

 

Hanging up the phone, Indrid heaved a sigh of relief as all of the futures in his head shifted, much calmer and safer all of a sudden. Less pressing concerns, a looming danger but nothing coming down his throat like a hot knife.

 

Now he just had to wait for the callback. And the eventual confrontation.

 

A toothy grin replaced the relieved expression on his face, swallowing his cheeks with how wide it spread- unnerving, certainly, but there was no one around to see it. He could practically feel himself shaking in anticipation- the visions swirling in his head a myriad of excitement and intrigue, hounded by hazel-green eyes and tipped hats.

 

The trio’s decision to come out to see him had done nothing but solidify Indrid’s visions of the future. He knew there was much that needed to be done- much that would require his help, or grave danger might befall the quaint little town that was home to the Gate. But he also knew every step he took brought him closer and closer to something that had tantalized him for months.

 

He was finally going to meet Duck Newton.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you liked it, hop over to tumblr and drop me a line! http://ilananight.tumblr.com


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